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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28396017">"I’m sorry, I’m new at this"</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesola/pseuds/yikesola'>yikesola</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fmdin2020 [20]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Depression, Established Relationship, M/M, non-youtuber au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:34:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>712</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28396017</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesola/pseuds/yikesola</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil hadn’t gotten more than single sentence texts in a week. Some of them, single words. And even those took a long time to happen. He knows that’s just how dating is sometimes. He’s heard enough context clues to know what ghosting is.<br/>A fic about reaching out and being let in.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dan Howell/Phil Lester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fmdin2020 [20]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>"I’m sorry, I’m new at this"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Fic Most Days in November*, Dialogue Prompt: I’m sorry, I’m new at this</p><p>*and yes december too, fight me</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Phil hadn’t gotten more than single sentence texts in a week. Some of them, single words. And even those took a long time to happen. Which doesn’t fit with the chatty Dan he’d spotted on the other end of a boring interoffice work mingle and walked over to spend the next four hours talking about almost everything except work with. Doesn’t fit with the chatty Dan he met for dinner the next night. Doesn’t fit with the chatty Dan he’s been falling for the last few months. </p><p>He knows that’s just how dating is sometimes. He’s heard enough context clues to know what ghosting is. </p><p>And maybe he’s being an idiot. But this just doesn’t <i>feel</i> like that’s what is happening. </p><p>So he’s stood in front of Dan’s apartment where he’s been over for drinks and board games and sex and coffee more than a handful of times, knocking and trying to tell himself he’s not being crazy. He just wants to make sure Dan’s okay. And he wants to make sure he doesn’t have this whole thing wrong.</p><p>If Dan doesn’t want to see him anymore, he can have the guts to say so. Phil could handle it. Better that than being strung along with cold uninterested texts for weeks. </p><p>He’s already knocked twice. Maybe that’s a little much, he thinks. </p><p>He lets himself knock one more time then has turned around to run towards the lift when he actually hears the lock click. </p><p>“Phil?” he hears Dan’s tired voice ask. </p><p>Phil is almost too afraid to turn around, but he also has become a little familiar with that tired voice, so he tries it. “Hey,” he says, giving an awkward little half-wave. Dan looks as tired as he sounds; deep purple shadows under his eyes and hair a wild mass of frizzed curls. “I was in the neighborhood,” he lies.</p><p>“Yeah?” Dan doesn’t look like he believes him. But he also doesn’t look mad.</p><p>Just looks tired as hell.</p><p>“Yeah,” Phil nods. “Just wanted to see if you were free.”</p><p>Dan looks back over his shoulder into the dark flat behind him. “You want some coffee?” he asks, turning back to Phil. </p><p>He nods. “You have none of my <i>instant crap</i>, do you?”</p><p>Dan actually laughs at that. It’s a hollow hanging laugh but it’s more than Phil has gotten in weeks. “No,” he says. He steps to the side and let’s Phil in. “But I’ve got more than enough sugar to make up for it.” </p><p>“Thanks,” Phil smiles. “Want a hand?” </p><p>“No, just uhh…” Dan shakes his head and steps past Phil and closes his bedroom door with a little slam. “It’s messy,” he says, “depression cave.” </p><p>Dan gets to work on the coffee in the cramped kitchen while Phil mulls those words over. He’s had a little depression cave. Not one that lasted as long as Dan’s apparently has, but the state of the hoodie Dan is wearing and the too-close feel of the air in the flat as though it’s been ages since a window breathed new air into the place, is something he remembers from those terrible months in uni when he first learned about loss. </p><p>He suddenly feels like he’s invaded on something. On a cycle of push and pull, good and bad, that Dan was working his way through, and which Phil has interrupted. They haven’t been together long enough for something as raw as a rough day. And from how long it’s been since Dan’s texts stopped sounding like Dan, it’s been more than a few rough days. </p><p>“People usually give up after the cold shoulder,” Dan says, stirring in the milk. </p><p>“That happen a lot?” Phil asks. </p><p>Dan shrugs. </p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m new at this,” he says when Dan sets a steaming mug in front of him. “We haven’t really… been seeing each other for a long time… Like, is it okay that I just showed up?” </p><p>Dan smiles, slowly. One moment his dimples aren’t there, and then they are. “I wouldn’t have invited you in if it wasn’t okay.” </p><p>Invited Phil into his flat. Invited him into his life. </p><p>“Good,” he smiles, taking a sip. It’s clearly fancier than his go to coffee— different. But it’s also sweet like Dan promised.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thanks for reading— come say hi on <a href="http://yikesola.tumblr.com/post/638799394962063360/im-sorry-im-new-at-this">tumblr</a> !</p></blockquote></div></div>
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